


A Long Time Coming

by TheDeanmon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Daddy Issues but It's Not Sexy, Emotionally Repressed Dean Winchester, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, One Shot, Pining, Roommates, Socially Awkward Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 08:00:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20524640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDeanmon/pseuds/TheDeanmon
Summary: Dean and Cas are roommates, and they're in love. The only problem is that Dean has no idea.





	A Long Time Coming

Castiel stared across the booth at Dean, watching him study the open medical textbook in front of him before he rubbed his eyes and looked up with a devastating sigh. Cas raised an eyebrow, a silent question as to what, exactly, the problem was. Dean lifted his glass of soda to his mouth and then looked out across the diner; Castiel had known him long enough to know that he was either giving his eyes a break or was approximately a second from tears. Castiel nudged his foot under the table and turned his attention back to the notes he was taking in his textbook for his Ecology class, “You know, it typically helps to read the book as you go, not the day before a midterm.”

Dean made a frustrated noise low in his throat and grumbled, “I don’t even want to be a doctor.” He set his drink down and then turned a page in his book, mouth pursed.

Castiel looked back up from his notebook and sighed gently, “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but if you don’t want to be a doctor, maybe you should talk to your dad.” Dean’s face contorted and, yeah, that wasn’t what Dean had been hoping or expecting Cas to say, but it was what needed to be said.

The only reason Dean was enrolled in pre-med was because his father, John, was projecting some kind of twisted White Knight Syndrome fever dream onto him. The whole time Cas had known him, Dean had only been interested in one thing, and that was engineering, but any time Dean entertained the idea of switching majors, he became a nervous wreck and locked himself in their dorm for hours at a time, without considering that Cas lived there too. 

Dean shook his head and said, “Wouldn’t want to disappoint him.” Instead of responding, Castiel went back to alternating between his notes and the textbook, and tried not to think about the resigned displeasure that wrinkled between Dean’s eyebrows. He was far too young to be that beaten down by life, and nearly every person close to him recognized that - except for his dad, but that’s a story for another day. “Do you wanna catch a movie with me and Lisa tonight?”

“No, you guys go ahead,” Cas replied flipping through a few of his pages and then highlighting some lines. Dean nodded a couple of times and then took a sip of his soda and turned a page in his book without retaining any of the information.

“You okay today?” Dean asked. Castiel looked up at him and furrowed his eyebrows. “You seem, I don’t know, off.”

“I’m fine,” he said in a way that made Dean think he wasn’t, “I’m worried about the final.” Cas touched his notebook and waited for some kind of reaction from Dean. He nodded.

Castiel looked back down at his work and made a mark. Dean let the silence between them resume for a moment and then he spoke again. “It’s just that usually we all go see a movie together, you know? Me, you, and Lis.” Castiel looked up, rolling his eyes. “I just think it’s weird that you don’t want to go with us this time. Do you have something else going on? A date or something?”

Castiel set his highlighter down beside his notebook and folded his hands on the paper. “Don’t you think it’s weird that I come with you on most of your dates?”

“No? I don’t care,” Dean scoffed.

“Lisa does.”

“No she doesn’t.”

“She definitely does, Dean.”

“So what,” Dean asked, “you don’t like Lisa now?”

Castiel blanched, “I did not say that.”

Dean’s face relaxed slightly and he rubbed his forehead. “Right. Sorry.”

Castiel went back to his book and Dean turned his face toward his book, but he didn’t start to read. Bronchial tissue seemed boring in comparison to the topic occupying their space now. Dean took another drink and then invaded Castiel’s studying once again. “Cas, if there’s something going on with a guy you know you can talk to me, right?”

Castiel snorted and jerked his head up, “What?” His voice cracked and he shook his head. He closed his textbook, ignoring the annotations he’d been in the middle of to focus on steadying his breath. He could feel his heart thundering against his ribs, behind his eyes, and in his wrists. He watched Dean work over his thoughts before speaking.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier. If there’s a guy, you can talk to me. I mean, I talk about Lisa all the time, and you never care.”

Dean tapped his fingers on the edge of the table and Castiel bit back some snotty reply about how he did care. “What question?” He asked.

“About having a date,” Dean replied without skipping a beat. “It’s fine if you do, I just assumed you’d tell me about it.”

“If I had a date, you would be the first to know,” Castiel said, stopping short of what he really wanted to say which was that if Cas had a date, it would ideally be with Dean, not hidden from him. Dean scrunched up his face and stood up from the table, hating the way Cas watched him, looking equal parts kicked puppy and scorned lover.

“I’m ordering a slice of pie,” Dean explained, pointing to the counter. Cas let his eyes fall back to his notebook without another word, and Dean headed for the front of the shop.

He ordered himself a piece of apple pie and went ahead and ordered a piece of pecan for Cas. The woman behind the counter was tall and dark skinned, the kind of beautiful that affronted you, but when she handed Dean his change, he barely smiled; just took the pie slices and headed back to the table, eyes glued to Castiel.

“So,” Dean said, placing the small porcelain plate on top of Castiel’s work so that he was forced to pay attention to their conversation. “What’s really going on?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Castiel answered. His eyes were deep and complex and Dean had gotten over trying to pretend he could read them.

“You have this look like… like, I dunno, like you’re hurt or something,” Dean said cutting a forkful of pie and jabbing it into his mouth unceremoniously.

“I’m fine.”

“I think that’s bullshit.”

“Dean.”

“Cas.”

They stared at each other for a moment and then Castiel moved the pie off of his notebook and closed the cover. Dean’s stomach lurched with anxiety. Castiel took the notebook and shoved it halfheartedly into his backpack. It was starting to rain outside and Dean tried not to think about the setting that that was giving their current situation. Cas scooped his highlighters and pens into his fist, downed the rest of his coffee and stood up, napkin falling to the floor as he did so. “I love you,” Cas said as if he was giving Dean the weather report.

Dean felt his eyes get big. He felt a swell in his chest and right behind his eyes. He felt his face get hot, invaded by a crimson blush. Castiel pulled his bag on and let himself look at Dean for a few more seconds before he left the café and walked down the street, hunched over against the rain.

Dean leaned back in the booth, touching the toes of his boots against the other side. He raised his cup to his mouth but didn’t drink anything; he felt full enough without it. Watching Cas leave felt wrong, but what was he supposed to do? Run out and follow him? He couldn’t. Not with everyone here. Maybe not even if they were alone. Especially not with the pretty woman at the counter watching him intently. Definitely not with a date scheduled with Lisa for that evening. Dean finished his soda, and started to leave a tip, but he noticed a few dollars tucked beside Castiel’s empty coffee mug, so he just stood and tugged on his jacket. He gathered up his books and left, turning sharply to duck under the awning to avoid the rain.

Dean made it to the dorms in relatively quick time, going into the building and passing through the common room to the stairs. When he got to the door of his room, he expected to open it and see Cas sitting on his bed, reading a book or watching Netflix or something, but he wasn’t there. Dean let the door close behind him and tried to ignore the sinking, guilty feeling in his chest. Castiel’s things were on his desk, backpack included, so he had to have just missed him, and somehow, that made it worse. Dean put his stuff on his desk and then laid down, face first, on his bed. He heard the door squeak open, but didn’t lift his head.

“Where were you?” Dean asked, voice muffled by his pillow. He rolled over but didn’t look at Cas. He didn’t have to. He already knew what he was doing; relaxing onto his bed with some book - probably for his medieval lit class - and purposefully not looking at him. “Cas?” Dean questioned. Castiel was quiet. He sat up and shrugged. It was too warm in their room. Cas liked it warm, and Dean kept the fact that it bothered him to himself. He cleared his throat, “Cas, I don’t…” he rubbed his eyes, “We need to talk. About what you said at the coffee shop.”

Cas sighed, and closed his book. He took a breath and smoothed a line in his jeans. “No.”

Dean turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. “No?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t just say no.”

Cas sighed again, all long suffering and disdain, and then said, “Look, I shouldn't have said anything. Can’t you just forget that it happened.”

“No, Cas, I don’t think so,” Dean said. If he snapped, he told himself it was because Cas was being petulant.

“You forget lots of things. Just make this one of them.” Castiel’s voice wasn’t mean or condescending, just concerned and maybe a little hopeful.

Dean climbed off of his bed, and crossed the floor to lean on Castiel’s bed instead. Cas leaned away from him instinctively, just like he usually did. “We need to talk about it,” Dean stressed. He pushed his palms down on his knees, and swayed into Castiel’s space.

Castiel wrinkled his nose, “You have a date tonight.”

“Cas.”

“With Lisa, remember? We don’t have time for this.” Cas swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, “She’ll be here in ten minutes.”

Dean looked at his watch. Cas was right. Like always. 

It was annoying.

“Cas, please.”

“Have fun,” Cas said, slipping out the door. He sounded genuine. That bastard.

Dean flopped down on his bed again and groaned, bouncing his fingers against his chest and counting all of the reasons he shouldn’t follow Cas out. Lisa interrupted him ten minutes later when she knocked on the door. He stood to answer it, obviously. Hugged her when she came in, obviously. Let her take his hand and pull him down the hall. When they passed the common room and Dean saw Cas talking to a pretty redheaded guy, he pretended he was okay.

The movie was fine. Probably a box office flop, but Lisa liked it and laughed in all the right places. Dean walked Lisa back to her dorm and she smiled the whole time. When she turned around, pressing her back to the door to kiss him goodnight, she stopped short and her smile faded.

She took a deep breath, “You’ve seemed tense,” she said, “all night.” Her hair was in curls, her eyes were bright. “Did something happen?” She asked. Dean shook his head a little. “With Cas?”

“Why Cas?” Dean asked. Lisa tilted her head, crease forming between her eyebrows. “I mean why would you just assume that something happened between me and Cas?”

Lisa snorted a little laugh and raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t come tonight.”

“He doesn’t come on all of our dates.”

“Mhm,” Lisa said.

“He doesn’t.” Dean said emphatically.

She smiled, “He comes on a lot of them.” Dean opened his mouth and then closed it and averted his eyes so she couldn’t look at him anymore. “It’s okay that he does. I like Cas.”

“I told him!” Dean said snapping his fingers and meeting Lisa’s surprised eyes.

“So something did happen with Cas?” Lisa asked like she had him figured out. She looked sly, grinning at him and pointing in his face. Dean’s cheeks colored and he looked down again. “You know,” she said, “friends fight sometimes.”

“It wasn’t a fight.” It was the opposite of that, really, but Dean didn’t say so.

“Look,” Lisa said rubbing her hands over his chest, “I don’t know what happened between you guys, but it, um, probably has something to do with his crush on you, right?” Dean gave her a look. One that he himself didn’t understand, but she seemed to because her face relaxed and she stood a little straighter. “Dean,” she sighed, “I know you guys have been close for a long time.” Dean looked her in the eyes. “I also know that you sometimes like to, um, bottle up your emotions.” Her voice was sweet. “I think maybe… Dean, baby, I think you need to think about what you really want.”

“Lisa, I love you,” Dean balked.

“I know,” She said, smiling. “Talk to Cas. Be open with him.” She clutched Dean’s hand, and she was still looking at him like she loved him. “I’m okay with whatever you decide. Even if you decide that it’s him you want and… and not me.” She was still looking at him like she loved him so why did it feel like a goddamn breakup. She went inside without kissing him, and Dean walked back to his dormitory, kicking the rocks on the sidewalk and thinking about why Lisa suggested that he talk to Cas.

The lights were off in their room, but Cas was sitting up in bed, book light clipped to the top of a book Dean knew was Wuthering Heights without asking. His knees were bent upwards, balancing the book in front of his eyes. He looked over at Dean when the door opened.

“I’m turning the light on,” Dean said.

“How was your date?” Castiel asked softly as he turned off his book light in tandem with Dean. He was smiling and wearing a Woodstock '69 shirt. He closed his book and laid it on his lap. Dean looked away and busied himself with emptying his pockets.

“Fine.”

“Movie?”

“Fine.”

“Dean?”

“Hm?”

“Are you mad at me?” Castiel asked, and that brought Dean’s attention back. He looked so worried, eyebrows furrowed.

“Cas,” Dean said crossing the floor, “no.” He sat down on Castiel’s bed and swayed close. Cas didn’t move out of the way but he didn’t lean forward like Dean had maybe been hoping he would. “I’m just…” Dean moved Cas’s book off of his lap and onto the comforter beside him. “You dropped a bomb today.”

Castiel pulled a somber face and pushed back a little at that, “I don’t think it was a well kept secret, Dean. I actually think Charlie told you at one point.”

“Shut up,” Dean moaned, “trying to think with you in the room is like trying to stay calm with a gun pointed at my feet.” Castiel raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything else. “Lisa told me that maybe I liked you back and just didn’t know it.” Castiel’s eyes briefly widened. “I kind of think she broke up with me. She wasn’t real clear.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Castiel said sincerely.

“Which part?” Dean asked. Cas pressed his mouth into a straight line and Dean expected him to say something snarky about his attitude. He didn’t. “Look, man, I don’t know if I even understood what she wanted me to do by talking to you. That’s what she told me to do,” he said. “Talk.” Castiel nodded. “I don’t know if she thought I’d have a come-to-Rupaul moment where I realized I wanted to be flamboyant with my flamboyant best friend or whatever–”

“I resent that.”

“– but I’m not gay. I mean the only guy I’ve ever even thought about kissing was you and that was like a year ago so.” Dean stopped when Castiel made a surprised hum. He looked up to meet Castiel’s eyes and then said quietly, “Shit.”

“When did you ever think about kissing me?” Castiel asked.

It was last year. On Castiel’s birthday. The two of them had gone to a broadway inspired diner called Evita’s! to celebrate. They’d had to drive two hours to get there, but Castiel hadn’t shut up about the place for months and Dean loved surprises. They sat at this big booth with glittery yellow cushions and a table covered with laminated playbills, and the whole time, Castiel was looking at him with his big blue doe eyes and this wide, almost giddy, smile. The whole night Dean wondered how it would feel to have Castiel’s stubble scrape against his chin as his tongue slipped into his mouth hot and foreign.

“That’s not important,” Dean said. “I’m not gay.”

“No one says you have to be,” Cas replied lifting a shoulder. His hands were on Dean’s knees now and he was pressing on them for support. Dean knew the drill. It was the 'I'm giving you options and letting you know that you're safe by reassuring touch' routine. “No one’s asking you to do anything.”

“I know,” Dean said, and why did it sound so betrayed.

“I just want you to be happy,” Cas said.

“I know.”

“Just do what makes you happy,” he rasped.

Dean was staring at him, and he folded his hands over Castiel’s. Because he needed to. Because he could. “I don’t know what makes me happy.”

“Well,” Castiel licked his lips and Dean watched. He thought about how they might feel on his. “What do you want?”

In the moment, he wanted Cas. Dean grabbed the back of Castiel’s neck and forced his head forward, knocking their mouths together almost violently. He was acting fast, before he lost his nerve. Kissing Castiel was like something out of an action movie. Where the hero gets the babe and they ride off into the sunset, except it was more than that because this was years in the making, and because it was Cas. It was better than Dean thought it would be, and a lot less awkward because Castiel wasn’t stiff. His lips were chapped but felt nice against Dean’s. His shoulders were more broad than Lisa’s and his hands were rougher, but he made Dean feel shrouded and warm. When they pulled back, Cas wasn’t smiling but he looked pleased.

“I still don’t know what I want,” Dean told him softly.

“That’s okay,” Cas said, “I want you.” Dean closed his eyes and leaned forward onto Castiel’s shoulder. “And I’m willing to wait.”


End file.
